As soon as the king had departed from the valley the beings in it began to sink into the same state of apathy as those were whom he had first found there. Those who sank first were the ones in whose lives the stress of labour or thought was the most intense, for they first felt the loss of that bearing of pain by one beyond themselves which gave them a difference of pleasure. And slowly as the accumulated enjoyment was exhausted, a chill death in life crept over the land. ’Tis useless to ask after the fate of any one of those that were there, for each was involved in the same calamity that overwhelmed all. Every hand forgot its cunning. The busy hum of life in the streets was hushed. In the country the slowly moving forms gradually sank to rest. At every spot was such unbroken quiet as might have been had all the inhabitants gone to some great festival. But there was no return of life. No watchful eye, no ready hand was there to stay the slight but constant inroads of ruin and decay. The roads became choked with grass, the earth encroached on the buildings, till in the slow consuming course of time all was buried—houses, fields, and cities vanished, till at length no trace was left of aught that had been there.
PART II.
CHAPTER I.
There are certain respects in which our world resembles the valley. Instead of regarding pleasure, pain, and feeling, let us examine the world we live in with regard to motion in one direction and another, and in respect of energy.
If we observe the movements which go on in the world, we find that in great measure they consist of movements which if put together would neutralize each other.
A pendulum swings to and fro. If the two movements took place at the same time the pendulum would be still. Taking a more ample motion—that of the earth round the sun. The earth moves in the course of its orbit as much towards the sun as away from it, and as much towards the east as towards the west. If all the motion were to be gone through at one and the same time the earth would not move with regard to the sun.
Again, if we notice what goes on on the surface of the earth, we see that there is a motion of rising up and of sinking down. There is an approximation of the chemical elements into some compounds, and a separation of them again. Of all the myriad processes which go on, the swing of a pendulum is the type. But the downward swing may be very different to the upward swing. It may be that the downward swing is represented by the violent action of the chemical affinities in a charge of gunpowder when exploded, and the upward swing may be represented by the swift motion imparted to a cannon ball, and the swift motion of the cannon ball in its turn comes to rest, and as it comes to rest slowly or quickly other changes take place.
And what we notice in our world is similar to what the inhabitants of the valley noticed about pleasure and pain—that they do not neutralize one another as a matter of fact.
The contrary motions on the earth which, if they were put together, would neutralize one another, do not as a matter of fact neutralize one another. We call motion in one direction positive—in the opposite direction negative. But in the world as a matter of fact positive and negative motion do not together come to nothing.
As in the valley the states of pleasure and of pain did not coalesce into a state of apathy, but always succeeded one another, in simple or complicated fashion, so on the earth it is impossible from two opposite moving bodies to get stillness. If the two come into contact in opposite directions the movement does not stop, but makes its appearance in an alteration of the shape of the bodies, in a disturbance of their particles, or in some such fashion.